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Memories of Deception	By : professorflo Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 20868 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters within. I make no money from this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Memories of Deception
- 2-2
- 3-3
- 4-4
- 5-5
- 6-6
- 7-7
- 8-8
- 9-9.
- 10-10
- 11-11
- 12-12
- 13-13
- 14-14
- 15-15
- 16-16
- 17-17
- 18-18
- 19-19
- 20-20
- 21-21
- 22-22
- 23-23
- 24-24
- 25-25
- 26-26
- 27-27
- 28-28
- 29-29
- 30-30
- 31-31
- 32-32
- 33-33
- 34-34
- 35-35
- 36-36
- 37-37
- 38-38
- 39-39
- 40-40
- 41-41
- 42-42
- 43-43
- 44-44
- 45-45
- 46-46
- 47-47
- 48-48
- 49-49
- 50-50
- 51-51
- 52-52
- 53-53
- 54-54
- 55-55
- 56-56
- 57-57
- 58-58
- 59-59
- 60-60
- 61-61
- 62-62
- 63-63
- 64-64
- 65-65
- 66-66
- 67-67
- 68-68
- 69-69
- 70-70
- 71-71
- 72-72
- 73-73
- 74-74
- 75-75
- 76-76
- 77-77
- 78-78
- 79-79
- 80-80
- 81-81
- 82-82
- 83-83
- 84-84
- 85-85
- 86-86
- 87-87
- 88-88
- 89-89
- 90-90
- 91-91
- 92-92
- 93-93
- 94-94
- 95-95
- 96-96
- 97-97
- 98-98
- 99-99
- 100-100
- 101-101
- 102-102
- 103-103
- 104-104
- 105-105
- 106-106
- 107-107
- 108-108
- 109-109
- 110-110
- 111-111
- 112-112
- 113-113
- 114-114
- 115-115
- 116-116
- 117-117
- 118-118
- 119-119
- 120-120
- 121-121
- 122-122
- 123-123
- 124-124
- 125-125
- 126-126
- 127-127
- 128-128
- 129-129
- 130-130
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- 24
Disclaimer: See Chapter 1.

Hermione knelt on the rug by Snape’s desk. Her muscles were cramped and trembling from having been in the same position for getting on for an hour. After telling her to get on her knees again and stay still Snape had ignored her again. Her initial indignation had worn off about thirty minutes ago when she had started to find it difficult to stay still any longer, and she had begun paying attention to staying upright. A little while longer and ached so bad that she didn’t think she would be able to move without falling flat on her face. That’s when she had started racking her brain’s to think of anything but her protesting muscles.

She had pondered the mystery of the missing days first, trying to rack her brains to think of an example of someone suffering either memory loss or extreme exhaustion from the Cruciatus curse. She had read somewhere about several examples of people who had either fallen into comas or taken days to wake up, but in each case the torture had been prolonged and they had either been suffering from ill health due to long term imprisonment, or other hexes had been used as well. She knew her exposure to the curse had been short in comparison each time, and she was in good health – as far as she knew.

Maybe something had happened to her in the last few months. For all she knew she could have been tortured for a long time at some point and her current punishments were only showing up some previous damage. That doesn’t make sense either. Malfoy said they had only captured me that evening. And who else besides Death-eaters would have wanted to hurt me like that? And it still wouldn’t explain the memory loss. Maybe she was ill. For all she knew she could have something seriously wrong with her that she now couldn’t remember about.

Her leg spasmed suddenly, and she had to muffle her cry by biting down on her lip. For a few seconds she thought she would topple over but she forced herself to stay upright with everything she had left. She snuck a quick look at Snape from under her eyelashes. She knew he must have heard her moan, but the bastard just turned another page of his book and continued to ignore her. Hermione had the urge to grab it and smack him round the head with it.

She began to fantasise about what she would do to him if given the chance, deciding to start with the least painful hexes and building up slowly to the worst. Maybe I should put him in a body bind and do what he did to me the other night… She smirked evilly at the thought of taking his cock out and working him up to the point of coming over and over without actually letting him come, leaving him begging for more. Not that she could really do such a thing, but it would serve him right.

The thought of what he had done to her made the throb slightly between the legs and she hissed slightly. Oh Gods, think of something else. The way his fingers had gently touched her breasts, his warm breath on her skin. Not that, idiot. The throbbing was building, and she tried to shift her thighs slightly to assuage the ache. It just made it worse, and with horror she realised her movement had been too much for her aching muscles. A burning pain ran down both legs and with a cry she overbalanced and fell to the floor. Oh shit…

Snape didn’t react straight away, and she lay sprawled on the floor for a few seconds, wiggling her feet carefully up and down, trying to restore some feeling back in her legs. Then, with a sigh he slammed the book shut. “I thought you were told to stay still, girl. Do you not know how to follow simple instructions?”

“Of course I do,” Hermione spat, “But I don’t know how you can expect me to… to…” She trailed off as Snape stood, his face dark and angry as he loomed over her.

“You dare to question my orders?” He grabbed her and hauled her upright, one hand in her hair and pulling her towards his face. Her legs wouldn’t cooperate and hold her up, so he dragged her towards his chair. She was dumped in front of him as he sat down, one hand still in her hair, pulling her head back to look up at him. “It is time to have another look at those memories. We will deal with your little… outburst later.”

Without any more warning he said the word, and was inside her head again. He was far gentler than he had ever been before. She could barely feel him as he flitted though her mind. He methodically sorted through her memories, looking for the gaps, and when he found one she could feel him delicately prodding at the edges, ghostly fingers feeling their way along the ends of what she could remember.

He eventually gave up trying to retrieve the memories after having tried to find his way in from every side and failing. He began to look at the time she had spent with him, lingering over the times he had punished her, or played with her. She could feel him tasting her emotions and reactions to each event, and for the first time since he had entered her head she could feel his emotions, a sense of purpose and determinedness that continually grew.

Forced to endure the pain and humiliation he had caused her over and over Hermione felt her own anger building. What was the purpose of him looking through these memories, except for his own amusement? They were nothing to do with her memory loss, so she could only assume he was enjoying watching her suffer.

The recollection of the way he had almost brought her to orgasm before leaving her hanging only served to bring back the forgotten ache between her legs. There was a sudden burst of curiosity from Snape, and then he was sifting through her memories from school. He kept on dragging memories of himself forward, gently prodding her consciousness to see where the images would take her. He drew her attention all the way back to the speech he had made in her first potions lesson.

Having the memory show to her in such a way was more vivid than normal. In her mind Hermione sighed as his deep, rich voice floated past her. It really was quite a sexy voice, when he wasn’t snarling or berating someone. A waft of amusement reached her, and then she was drifting through other memories of potions lessons, lingering on the sound of his voice, and as she grew older, the way her breath had seemed to catch as he had leant close to her to view her potion, the odd tingling in her stomach when his attention had rested directly on her.

Hermione hadn’t understood what it had meant until that one night in the girl’s dormitories. Noticing her attention was drifting Snape gently nudged her to continue towards that memory. Just before they reached it Hermione suddenly realised where they were going and tried frantically to back away, but he was too adept at manipulating her mind, and they plunged into her recollection of a girly evening discussing the merits of different boys.

The discussion had moved onto the Slytherin boys, and they were trying to decide which of the Slytherin boys would be the best catch, when Lavender had suddenly piped up with Snape’s own name. Most of the girls had been shocked, including Hermione, but when Lavender had started justifying herself a number of them had suddenly begun agreeing with some of her points, and occasionally offering their own.

The conversation had moved on to detention with Snape and the best way to remove buttons magically. Hermione had sat silently, agreeing with many of the points, but too embarrassed to join in, having suddenly realised what all those hot flushes and shaking hands in potions were caused by. She had a crush… Oh Gods… And on Snape. Hermione tried to pull out of the memory, but Snape continued to push on, and she was forced to watch with him, her embarrassment growing.

A squeal from Lavender had broken her reverie, and she had tuned back into the discussion to her admitting to the other girls that she’d got herself off more than once while thinking about Snape whispering dirty things in her ears. It lead to a discussion of his voice, one that Hermione wholeheartedly agreed with, even though she had thought the romantic fantasy Lavender described as silly and wholly unrealistic. However the idea of thinking about Snape while she….

Hermione was mentally kicking and screaming in rage at this point of the memory, trying desperately to shake Snape’s concentration, but he ignored her fury and pulled on the thread of the connecting memory. Oh Gods, NO! Anything but this! She was relaxing in the bath, thinking about the conversation a few nights ago, and wondering what it would be like… Her hands slipped down over her breasts, rubbing her nipples to stiff points. One hand drifted lower as her eyes closed and she imagined they were his hands running over her skin, his breath on her neck.

Her fingers slid between her legs, running up and down the length of her outer lips, caressing her clitoris gently. She could hear him in her head, reciting some lecture. The words didn’t matter, the sound of his voice was enough. Slowly she pushed into herself, making lazy circles with her finger until her walls relaxed and she felt herself getting wet.

She pushed in a second, and soon a third, pumping back and forth slowly. Her other hand moved down from her breasts to rub her clitoris as she began to moan and push against the fingers within her. The combination of his voice and the fingers were bringing her quickly towards orgasm. His words were becoming clearer and she arched her back as the fingers pushed deeper than before. She could feel him over her, his breath at her neck, his mouth caressing her skin. “Hermione….”

Her eyes shot open. That wasn’t my memory. The feeling between her legs was still growing, and it took her a few moments to realise that Snape was no longer in her mind. The world spun for a few seconds as the effects of the prolonged Legilimency wore off, and suddenly she realised she was lying on the floor. Snape was just pulling away from her, and abruptly the wonderful sensations began to ebb, and she moaned with the loss of his fingers.

“You bastard,” she cried. All the suppressed anger in her burst free and she threw herself at him, catching him in the face and clawing his neck before he realised what was happening. He quickly threw he off, his job made easier by the fact that her legs were still weak from earlier. Quickly he had her pinned to the floor, sitting on her chest and holding her arms down with his legs. She continued to writhe beneath him and spat up at him, kicking her legs and trying to reach him with her mouth.

She had never felt so furious. All she could think of was hurting him as much as he had hurt her. “I hate you, you evil wanker! Get off me! You’re a sick bastard…” She screamed at him, futilely trying to get free. With difficulty, Snape reached across to the desk, pulling his wand off the top while balancing carefully above her.

“Silencio!” Hermione continued to rail at him, but no words were now audible, and she quickly stopped, putting all her energy instead into unseating him. “Immobulus,” he said, and suddenly she couldn’t move. With a relieved sigh Snape pushed himself up to his feet. He frowned down at her for a few seconds, before starting to pace back and forth, a look of concentration on his face.

He stopped abruptly, the look of dismay of his face clear to her despite the face she was still laid out on the floor. He strode past her, and she heard him pull open a cupboard somewhere above her head. He growled a quiet curse at what he saw.

Her rage had subsided a little, although she could still feel a great deal of anger and resentment coursing through her at what he had just done. The shame as she remembered her own actions in the memory helped to reduce her anger to a low simmer. She hated him for violating her body in such a way, but she wondered if her own memories had not spurred him on to it that evening. Gods, she was still wet between her legs as a result. It did feel so good…

Snape came back into view, his face deathly grim. Something seemed to haunt his eyes as she looked down at her. He studied her intently, noticing that she was no longer struggling against her invisible binds. “I will release you now. If you dare to touch me again in such a way you will regret it.” He looked down at her for a few seconds longer before growling, “Finite Incantum.”

Immediately Hermione could move again, although she restricted herself to rolling onto her side, away from Snape, to help control the urge to jump up and grab him again. She heard him sigh heavily behind her. “I was going to wait until tomorrow night to begin this, but in consideration, maybe now is an appropriate time to start testing you.”

She heard a rustle behind her and a dull thump. Hermione rolled over slowly to see what he was doing. The desk had been moved back against the wall. Oh no! She knew what was coming next. As he turned to face her she flinched from the heat of his gaze.

“Crucio.”
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Memories of Deception